Innocent with Reason of Insanity
by Einsam-Schatten
Summary: He didn't mean to kill the boy. He thought he was playing. And he DIDN'T think that the whole situation would land him in a mental hospital. The adults there freak him out and he freaks out the kids. (AU) violence (possibly more in further chapters), language
1. Chapter 1: It was an accident

_ Oh my god...I killed him...I thought we were just playing!_

Thirteen year old Ivan Braginsky stood with one hand over his mouth, as he stared in shock at the dead body of Gilbert Beilschmidt, a slightly older boy at the age of fourteen. The German had challenged Ivan to a fight. Ivan assumed it was friendly, but after finding that Gilbert really wanted to physically hurt him, things got hideous. Apparently, Gilbert was ticked, for Ivan had accidentally embarrassed him at school when he spilled cafeteria food on the albino's new hoodie, and his jeans. In the fight, Gilbert grabbed Ivan's neck, and he defended. Ivan had sent his bony fist flying into his temple, thus ending his life. Apparently, the blow was just strong enough to be fatal, but it's not uncommon for a punch to the temple to be fatal, it is a vital area that lacks the protection for the brain.

"K-Katyusha!" he shrieked in horror, falling to his knees.

"Ivan, what is it?" his sweet older sister greeted her younger brother in the yard, beholding a magnificent, uplifting smile, only to be shattered by the sight of a teenage boys corpse lying next to her dear younger sibling.

"Oh my god, Ivan, what happened to him?!" she screamed, checking for a pulse, but to only find that his heart is not moving.

At this point, Ivan had tears swelling up in his eyes. His face flushed as he began to cry. This was scary! He knew he was going to get in trouble for a crime that, in all fairness, was not completely his fault, but more so, Gilbert's.

"H-He came over t-to our h-house, Katyusha! I-I didn't m-mean to k-kill him!" he cried, rubbing his eyes with his fists. Ivan was not known for showing his times of weakness, but this was hard to contain.

"Dear brother, y-you killed this boy?" she asked, putting a hand on her heart in a startled manner.

"Y-Yes...but I d-didn't mean t-to! H-He sh-showed up a-asking for me t-to fight...I th-thought w-we were playing! T-Then, he g-grabbed m-my throat and h-he was gonna s-strangle me! I h-had to defend m-myself, I d-didn't think I'd k-kill him!" he spoke rapidly and frantically, as if he were being timed.

"H-How did you kill him?" she asked, putting a hand on her weeping brother's shoulder.

"I-I...hit his...t-temple..." he whimpered in shame, covering his eyes and shaking his head, wishing the whole world would just disappear.

Katyusha had nothing else to say. Staring at the body, she worried. For Ivan. She believed him, when he said it was an accident, for she knew her brother was a very trustworthy boy, at least towards her. But the cops, the judge, government law...they don't know that.

Phoning in the boys parents, Ivan's older sister had decided she'd let Gilbert's folks deal with everything else. Ivan was ordered to stay in a jail cell at the juvenile detention center until his "judgement day". This day soon came. There weren't many witnesses, which could be a very good thing for him, or a very bad thing. The judge had called up Katyusha to the stand.

"Miss Braginsky, it is true, da? That you are the person who takes care of Ivan Braginsky?" the judge asked. They were sort of ignoring the fact that she was, legally speaking, not old enough to be a legal guardian, for until this information proved important or nessicary, they will keep quiet.

She simply nodded, "Da, it is true, sir."

"So I trust you were watching over him the day of the murder?"

"Da."

"Did you see him do the crime or did he confess to you?"

Giving Ivan a sad look, she nodded. This made her feel guilty, like she just betrayed her own family member. But Ivan knew she was under oath, and did not blame her.

"Da, he did confess to me. But he also said it was an accident!"

"An accident?"

"Sir, it was!"

"Give me the details."

A little hope settled back into her heart. If he was charged with "involuntary man-slaughter, the penalty will be not as bad.

"He told me that the boy picked a fight with him. Assuming it was a play-fight, he willingly accepted his challenge. If I remember correctly, he told me the boy tried to strangle him, and he defended himself by punching his temple, thinking that it wouldn't kill him."

"Interesting..."

He called up a few more witnesses, none knowing anything about this. But Natalia tried to demand that Ivan was freed. Then, the judge called up one of the Braginskys' neighbors.

"Can you tell us anything about this whole case, ma'am?"

The woman had a strict facial expression, it was rather freaky looking. Her brown hair was tied back and she wore a pearl necklace. Her dress was gray like her soul.

"I can see why it'd make sense that Ivan Braginsky would kill someone by accident."

"Oh?"

"I fear that the child may have something mentally troubling him."

Ivan stared at her in disbelief. If she gives him anything that may make him seem insane, they'll announce him as not guilty due to reason of insanity, and they'll lock him up in a mental institution!

"I've noticed that Ivan had exhibited somewhat...sociopathic behavior. And I've seen how he rough he acts around other children. He landed a few in the hospital, and now he's landed someone in the grave. His mind is broken.

"I object!" Ivan shouted, glaring.

"Enough, Ivan. I've made up my mind," the judge announced.

"Now, I pronounce Ivan Braginsky—"

"I can't believe that bitch of a neighbor landed me in the mental institution!" Ivan growled as Katyusha buttoned up his long coat.

"Isn't it better than the Juvenile Detention Center? And besides, you may make new friends!"

"If I wanna be friends with someone who was mental issues, I just hang out with Natalia..."

"Ivan, don't be mean!"

Natalia was standing nearby and heard what he said, but completely ignored it.

They heard the sound of car wheels pulling up in their frozen driveway. It was Ivan's ride. Katyusha kissed him on the head goodbye, and Natalia...kissed him on the lips, to Ivan's horror. His older sister helped him with his bags and tied his favorite scarf around his neck.

"Remember, eat three full meals a day, drink plenty of fluids, don't act rude around the other children your age—"

"Big sis, I'll be okay."

The driver drove him away. Keeping his arms folded, Ivan stared out the window at the piles and piles of snow. It looked so fun. Fuck.

"So, how's it feel driving around mentally sick people all the time?" Ivan asked casually, with his nose to the window.

"I don't do this all the time. Now pipe down, I need to keep my focus on the road."

Ivan grumbled. He shuffled through his bag to find a gray, cotton blanket and immediately wrapped it around his body. Even with the thick coat he wore, he was shaking with coldness. The thick blanket seemed to be of some help, but it was still outrageously cold.

After one long, freezing car drive earlier, they had finally arrived at the mental fucking institution. It was huge. Maybe it's so big to fit in more torture chambers or something...

"Get your stuff, you've already been registered so I'm gonna show you around," the apparently "not full time driver" said with no emotion whatsoever.

As I followed my guide into the building, something caught my eye. I looked behind me. A fluffy cat sat right in front of him. The cat's coat was grayish brown, with a bit of white in the front. It's eyes were the same shade of purple as his own. It was pretty adorable...quickly, Ivan scooped it up in his bag. He knew animal interaction wouldn't be possible for a long time if he hadn't done this, even though he may get in trouble. When the cat was completely concealed, he ran to catch up with the guide.

"Uh, so why do I go here instead of a mental institute set aside for kids?" he asked noticing some gross looking adult patients. He strongly disliked and distrusted adults (he's trying to distance himself from his guide).

"I dunno kid, this place has a part of it for kids," she answered in a sort of half-assed way.

"Oh...um, okay?" he wasn't sure if that was really the answer he was looking for.

After one painfully boring tour over a painfully boring building with a painfully boring guide, he finally directed him to his room. When he opened the door...it looked like a super lame hotel room.

"Y'know, I'm gonna die here..."

"Uh-huh..." the guide shut the door and left.

Ivan began unpacking, and let his cat run around. In his bag, he found a picture of him and his sisters when they were younger and hung it up. With a scowl, he pulled out his ugly sweater that Katyusha insisted he took with him. He considered throwing it in a trash can here but decided not to, for his sister had knitted it for him.

Collapsing on the bed, he let out a huge sigh. A sorta "fuck the world, it's a bitch" sigh. "Already missing my sisters" kinda sigh. "My life sucks" kinda sigh..."I'm all alone" kinda sigh.


	2. Chapter 2: I used a pipe

Tossing and turning in his sleep. It was nerve wracking, sleeping in a place you were unfamiliar with, after being part of a horrible incident. He felt like the devil could easily take his soul in this place. It felt unsafe, and he feared he was no longer being protected by God.

_Ivan, get the fuck out here._

Gilbert?

Nightmares ran through his brain in black in white vision like an old film. His small body shot up from under his warm blankets, breathing heavily. He was in a cold sweat and his hands shook like crazy. The cat he had adopted slept by him, offering warmth and comforting sounds of purring. This didn't make him feel much better though. Throwing the sheets off in a way to not wake the sleeping feline, he hopped out of bed. The floor stung his bare feet with sheer coldness. He slipped black socks onto his feet and approached the door. Slowly turning the knob, he pushed the door open, successfully not making any sound.

'_Where did she say the kitchen was?_' the confused Russian tiptoed to where he had sworn he remembered it being. Nope, it was the laundry room. Then he remembered it was in the hall way left of the one he was in. Before he knew it, it was there. The  
lights were still on, so he suspected it was okay for someone to get a midnight snack if they wanted. Walking into the large kitchen, he approached the pantry, where he hoped they'd have some tea to help him sleep. Shuffling through the tons of stuff, he found the coffee beans. As assumed, behind the coffee beans, were the tea bags. He looked through the collection of herbal teas, minding his own business, until he heard a voice.

"Will you move?"

"W-What?"

The voice was filled with...the same sorta ignorance that Gilbert's voice had, even though it was an innocent, simple question. He turned white, assuming the worst.

"Gilbert..?"

"Who?"

Ivan turned around to be greeted by a kid who was maybe a year younger than him. His hair was a golden blond with a strange cowlick in the middle. His eyes were bright blue, and partially protected with glasses that didn't cover the whole of his eyes. The kid was also in his pajamas that had an American flag on the shirt, and red out the word "HERO".

"Hey, you're that new kid...uh...Ivan!" he pointed out, with slight admiration and a hint of fear "Your punch killed that one kid!"

Ivan scratched the back of his head. He'd actually just been telling people that, even himself, that his punch is what killed him, but that wasn't exactly the case.

"Um...can you keep a secret?" Ivan asked in a whisper.

The American did the zipping lips motion and "threw away the key".

"I actually hit him on the temple with a pipe that was in my reach. When he was trying to hurt me, my rusted pipe was sitting by his feet and I was able to reach it...I'm not strong enough to punch someone into their death rest."

The kid stared at him with wide eyes at this confession.

"Whoa, for real?"

Ivan nodded. He decided to change the subject then.

"So, what is your name?"

"I'm Alfred!"

"Nice to meet you Alfred."

"Um, Ivan, if you've found watchu were looking for, do you mind letting me in that space?"

"Oh, uh, yeah!" he scooted out awkwardly.

As Ivan searched for the tea cups, he could hear Alfred shuffling inside the pantry. It was noisy, like he was digging into the very back of the pantry.

"Alfred?"

"Hm?" the shuffling ceased.

"Do they have anything besides plastic or foam cups here? Like maybe...tea cups?"

"You drink tea? Dude that's super lame!"

Ivan rolled his eyes. The thought '_Typical American_' was the first thing to pop in his head at the moment.

"But uh, no, the don't have anything that we could potentially shatter." Alfred answered the question, deciding not to be difficult. The shuffling continued.

Ivan sighed and settled for a foam cup. He poured tap water into his cup and placed the tea bag inside. Opening the microwave door, he set the time for two minutes and stuck the cup inside. As he waited, he saw the American had dug out what looked like...a candy stash!

"Dude, they totally thought they could hide this from me, what losers, hahaha!" Alfred laughed, sticking a "Swedish Fish" in his mouth. Then and there, Ivan knew...this kid was probably a pig. Alfred sat down in corner of the kitchen and began to eat his candy. Now how's he supposed to sleep when he's hyped up on sugar?

In two minutes, the microwave beeped and he took out his hot cup. Leaning against the nearby counter, he took a sip.

"You don't put any sugar in it, man?" Alfred observed, holding a licorice.

"Nyet."

"That sounds totally gross and tasteless!"

"Not everything has to be flavored."

"Flavor is what makes things interesting and unique, though!"

Silence was brought upon the two. Since it was clear they were done talking, Ivan waved goodbye, and headed back to his room, hoping the soothing tea would help him reach peace in his sleep. The way I worded that last part sounded kinda hippy-ish, fufu.

-

Ivan crashed in his bed, next to his kitten, who was no longer sleeping. As his face sunk into his pillow, the cat leapt on his back and decided he'd fall asleep there. The sleep was more peaceful with a cat on his back and a stomach full of warm tea. Or maybe it's that he cleared his mind about the pipe. Whatever it was, the sleep was nightmare-less. But he was in for a rude awakening. He heard pounding on the door and his eyes snapped open.

"Get out of bed and meet in the yard!"

"Son of a bitch..."

It felt kind of like he was being defiant when he decided to go outside in his warm pajamas and a blanket. When they say get out of bed, it's not uncommon when they actually mean to get out of bed, get dressed, and all the other morning routine shit. But now that he was considered "mentally insane" it seemed like something he could get away with.

"Thank you for joining us...uh...why are you in your PJ's?" this person in a white jumpsuit questioned. He didn't understand why the staff is wearing that white stuff and not the patients...or maybe the white clothing is for the seriously insane.

"I'm in my pajamas...because I can. And I bear a blanket cuz it's cold, before you ask that," Ivan answered with a little proud giggle under his breath. He saw the person roll his eyes.

"Anyway, Ivan, this is pretty much the entire set of patients in your age group. I'll introduce them because they'll probably just cramp their brain trying to remember."

Ivan frowned. Were these people really THAT mentally sick, because he was supposed to be set with people who had similar issues.

"We have Feliciano, Alfred, Kiku, Wang, Arthur—"

"Whoa, wait, slow down, you're not even pointing to who's who!"

"Figure it out, you're probably the smartest one here."

The short-haired Asian turned a bit red. Obviously this came out as offensive to him, so Ivan assumed he was actually a pretty smart dude. This...instructor guy, if that's what he was...didn't seem to be very encouraging, or good at this whole job.

"Eh, so do they all know my name?"

"I dunno."

"...Hi, I'm Ivan. Did you know that people think you are crazy if you defend yourself from someone who's attempting to strangle you?"

Everyone giggled a bit. They all heard of the incident, and they agree with Ivan that it's a little crazy.

"You're so funny," the instructor(?) scowled.

"So are you, sir."

The red head and Alfred were laughing a little louder than everyone else, so they were awarded with a lovely glare. This wasn't all that funny so it was suspected...these people never have anything to laugh at. Kind of sad. Fuuuck, these meetings are probably pretty tedious and lame.

"Okay. So let's see if I get this right," Ivan began.

Pointing or Feliciano, he said his name. He heard his Italian accent so this was pretty easy. A few of them, he got wrong, but many he got right. Everyone was talking about why they were in the living hell of a place as the person in charge just sat there staring. It didn't bother him that he didn't have to do anything, of course. But Ivan began to question his authority.

"Hey, Feliciano?"

"Yeah?"

"What's that guy do?" Ivan pointed to the guy he still doesn't know what to call.

"Who knows! He never does anything. We like to call him Mr. Buzzkill, cuz he's no fun."

"He sounds pretty bad."

Feliciano nodded.

"By the way..." Feliciano added.

"Yeah?"

"Are you seriously strong enough to kill someone with a punch?"

"Oh god..."

_Fight me, you motherfucking loser._

_ You are seriously inviting me to fight? That sounds like fun!_

"No, I-I used a p-pipe..." Ivan stuttered.

"Oh! Uh...are you shaking?"

"Sort of..."


	3. Chapter 3: When it's suspicious

_I've never acted like this before. Why am I so scared? It was an accident, I know I'm not an insane murderer!_

"I'm sorry Feliciano, but I must g-go..."

"Ivan?" Feli cocked his head.

He shivered a bit as I headed for the doors. As he grasped the handle of the door, he stopped for a second to look down at his boots. With a deep breath he pulled the door open. He really didn't want to go back inside. The outdoors (even if you can't really go anywhere) made him feel free. But this was too hard to handle. Pushing the door open caused the hinges to squeak which caught the attention of another boy. Ah...he couldn't remember the name, but the boy called out his name.

"Ivan, what are you doing?" it was the boy with the British accent and the shaggy, blonde, messy hair. Not to mention...ahem...the eyebrows which were...embarrassingly thick.

"I'm leaving..."

"You can't do that!"

Ivan glared and proceeded to walk through the door. After one step, he felt his scarf tug against his neck. Turning around, he saw the British boy holding his scarf.

"Trust me, if the staff sees you've escaped, they'll go find you, and no one knows what they do after that, but I've heard it sucks!" he looked concerned. What an incredibly queer teen. But then again, he's IN a mental institution.

With a sigh "Whatever you say..."

"Arthur, Ivan!" a gruff voice yelled from behind. Ivan knew he was in trouble, but the only thought that came into his head was 'oh right, that's his name'. They turned to see it was the uh...guy...(Ivan never figured out what his purpose was)or...Mr. Buzzkill was standing behind them with a scowl.

"Get the hell over here!" him having permission to use such language was questionable. But the two hurried back to their spot.

"Sorry!" Arthur apologized. This brought Ivan a little bit of guilt, for it was not Arthur's fault...

"Ah, wait, I didn't know we weren't allowed to leave and he tried to stop me..." Ivan confessed.

"I don't give a fuck, but now you two are in trouble!"

He suspected this,"Okay...but why exactly?"

"Every child out here is dangerous and their are consequences with suspicious behavior!"

"Suspicious..?"

Arthur shook his head as he looked down.

"Anything that goes against his order is 'suspicious'" the Brit whispered to Ivan with a grimace. He obviously had a disdainful feeling for this Mr. Buzzkill.

"I see..."

...

...

_Finally..._

Ivan plopped onto his bed, wrinkling the beige quilt. He huffed in exhaustion. This day was so lame. But he was able to find out a bit more about the patients.

The way they were grouped was not necessarily by common disorder. It was age and how major the disorder was. Apparently, he was put in one of the groups where people who suffered minor issues went. Their pills were served in lesser doses than the other groups of this age. Of course, pills are pills and pills are obnoxious. He was also able to learn what was wrong with everyone their. Feliciano seemed more than alright telling him sooo...

Feliciano: Bipolar disorder (minor)

Arthur: Multiple personality disorder

Kiku: OCD

Alfred: AD/HD (major, but never led to any hazardous or disastrous situations)

Wang: Anxiety disorder (major, but same as with Alfred's situation)

When he had asked Ivan what was wrong, he found himself a bit stumped. He, himself, didn't believe he even WAS mentally sick. But the judge declared him insane so what he said was:

"All's I've been told was I was insane and antisocial."

In Ivan's head that was meant to be more humorous, but it came out in a way that seemed a wee bit creepy. It didn't seem to phase the frail Italian at all though, so he could take a guess that he's been here for a while, and has seen and heard it all. Poor boy.

Suddenly, the Russian's mind began to think deeper into this whole thing. At first his concern was just that he was being thought of as insane, and he'd be around other mentally dysfunctional children. Now, however, he began to think...this place is really the end of his life. His sister had to sell her car for money, so no family can visit. The kids around him are miserable. In this place, they look down on you. The more he thought about it, the more depressed he got. Then a bit anxious. To the point of clutching his pillow.

"No...no...no...I wanna go home I wanna go home I wanna go home I wanna go home!"

His violet eyes shimmered as the salty liquid filled from the corners of his eyes. His little cat leapt to his side to comfort the boy. He was oblivious to the fact that he was crying out-loud (though it was relatively quiet) and the person in the room next to his could vaguely hear his vocal form of despair. A sudden (yet soft) knock vibrated on the door, which was the cat's cue to hide. Ivan wiped his eyes.

"Come in." a slight sniffle followed his words.

The door creaked open. If Ivan was drinking something, he would've taken a spit take. Feliciano. Who knew? Tears were in the corners of his eyes as well.

"Feliciano, is something wrong?"

The innocent little Italian boy shook his head slowly.

"No...but I heard you sobbing and it greatly upset me to hear someone like that so I came over to see if you were alright...are you alright?"

"Thank you for the concern, but I'm okay..."

Italy frowned and furrowed his eyebrows.

"Don't lie to me. I can see your cheeks are flushed. You were crying."

Ivan sighed submissively.

"Okay. I will admit it, yes, I was crying..."

Without asking for permission, he stepped out of the doorway and inside Ivan's room. He sat on his bed next to him and looked at the Russian.

"Why is that?"

"Ah...well, I just don't like being here...I am just like a second class citizen in this place. And I can't even be around my family!"

"Your family can visit!"

"No, they're poor, they can't afford a car and there aren't any bus stops with four miles of our practically isolated house."

"Oh..."

"And I don't know if...they did even visit me...if they'd still feel about me in the same way..."

Katyusha's voice crept into his head, forming words that she never said. Unfortunately, they worked on him. He believed that he'd no longer be loved. He was a murderer. But it was an "involuntary murder" (though the judge didn't believe him) so he's not that bad, right? Right?

_Murderer..._

You've always had that desire to kill.

Had he?

Feliciano's voice brought his mind back to reality.

"Ivan, did you here a word I said?"

"Ah...I'm sorry, I was thinking to myself a bit..."

"You're suffering miserable thoughts, aren't you?"

Silence.

"Don't be unhappy."

"How?"

"Look at the bright side!" Feliciano grinned so wide and innocently, Ivan swore he could've heard Angels singing. Of course he was pretty tired so that likely wasn't the case.

_Bright side? What bright side?!_

"Thanks."

Though he knew Feliciano was trying to help him out, he was not all too grateful. What help can he be? And the message he's hearing may not be the one he's trying to get across, seeing he's rather confused. First he was crying, then he was stern, then happy and gentle. This didn't seem all too helpful. But Ivan gave him a gracious smile anyway.

"No problem!" with that, he exited the room.

His little cat friend crawled out from under the bed. It's fur was ruffled and messed up. It was rather adorable and humorous. He had a mohawk on his back, sort of. Ivan reached out a still-gloved hand to smooth out the fur.

"Oh...I am so tired...it must be at least two P.M., da? How weird..." he sleepily sank his head into his pillow.

_It must be the stress, stress makes people tired, right?_

The cat nudged him to wake up, to Ivan's annoyance. When he attempt to turn over, the cat leapt over him to nudge him from the other side. Ivan groaned in exasperation, and held the pillow to his face. When it let out an indignant yowl, the Russian boy scowled.

"For God's sake, I am up!"

...

...

In Feliciano's room, he could hear all the racket from the new boy's room and became rather concerned.

"Is he talking to himself?" the Italian asked himself nervously "Maybe he IS dangerous..."

But Feli caught himself.

"N-No! Bullshit, he's fine!"

Then he heard what sounded like...cat sounds. Suddenly, he began to get a little freaked out.

"He sounds like a cat...is he possessed?!"

The frail boy clutched a red teddy-bear to his small, skinny chest. He didn't want a roommate who made contact with demonic beings! But who does? Then he began thinking that maybe there is an explanation behind this...what sounds like "abnormal behavior".

_Maybe I should give him another visit...tomorrow..._


End file.
